Dancing Ladies

by Marilyn Gardiner

  She awakened with gritty eyes and a dull headache, not surprising after the night she'd had. It was also no surprise to find not a trace, anywhere, that Leah had been around. Even the power was back on.

  In the kitchen Max gave her a once-over and frowned. “Why are your eyes all squinched up?"

  "Headache, Max. Big time."

  "I'll get the medicine.” Obligingly he scooted to the edge of the chair, ready to make a run to the bathroom medicine chest.

  "Thanks, I appreciate the offer, but there isn't enough medicine in the western world for this headache. I've already taken some."

  "But—” and he obviously had something on his mind. “You promised we'd make cookies today. Are you sick?"

  She groaned and gave in to the inevitable. “Not too sick for cookies, if you'll help."

  His face cleared. “All right!

  "Chocolate Cherry Drops, right?"

  "Right.” She got out the flour, butter and sugar and began creaming the mixture.

  "Grandpa's favorites, right?"

  "Right."

  "And Grandma made him a special batch every year for Christmas, didn't she?"

  "She did. Do you remember that?"

  Both hands and half his arms covered in flour, and a swipe of white powder already across one cheek, Max resembled the Pillsbury Doughboy more than himself. “He sneaked me one last year while you and Grandma were doing dishes and he told me. I'd already had my dessert, but he said it was Christmas and it was special and I had to cross my heart and hope to die that I wouldn't tell. Does that count now that he's in heaven?” His brow puckered in a worried frown.

  "Probably not when we're just talking about cookies, but a promise is a promise, Max. Promises are important."

  He nodded slowly. “Cass says that a man is no better than his word, and that means keeping promises.” He made a small sound of distress and looked up with eyes filled with guilty concern. “I shouldn't have told you, I guess."

  Kate was surprised to think that Max had secrets from her. She didn't know of a single one. “Cass said that, huh?"

  "Yup."

  "What else does Cass say?"

  "He says I ought to watch out for you and help you more. But that's no secret so I can tell."

  "Well, I think you're doing just fine in the helping department. But I'll let you know if I need anything. Okay?"

  "Sure. When are these going to be ready to eat?"

  "You can have a couple when they come out of the oven, but we're saving the rest for a picnic."

  Max's eyes widened. “A picnic! When? Where?"

  "Right after ball practice. Cass and Stacey and us. We're going out to the lake, and Cass is going to bring along his fishing stuff."

  "Man! Fishing! Cool! I ain't never—"

  "Haven't."

  "I haven't never fished before."

  "That's what I told him and he said it was time to change that."

  "Man.” Max's voice was awed. “Fishing! Just like Lionel and his dad. Fishing."

  Kate took it to mean he liked the idea and smiled, but she couldn't help a flutter of something akin to grief. Boys learned things like fishing from their fathers. They also learned the value of a man's word. Max's father couldn't have cared less. She found that very sad.

  * * * *

  "Did you see the ball Max fired to Stacey in the last inning?” Kate yelled to Cass over the din of a van full of celebrating ball players.

  He shouted back, “In another year, maybe two, he'll be able to nail any spot on the field. I told you he had a good arm."

  She beamed at him, proud of Max, happy for the Wart Hogs and just—happy. She took a minute to savor the feeling. Life was good right now. If she could forget whatever Leah was up to. Enjoy it, she told herself, it might not last. Happiness, for her, had not had much longevity, since Leah's death.

  "I took the banner to the Dairy Queen and the manager hung it on the wall,” she said.

  Somewhere behind her Max yelled, “We're number one!” A chorus of “yeahs” and high fives followed.

  "When other teams see it they'll likely want theirs up there, too. Thanks Kate. The kids will love it."

  "The manager said he'd welcome all the banners the kids brought in."

  They gave up conversation. It was necessary to scream to be heard and they had time later to share. Kate smiled inwardly. That felt so nice. Time later to share. She sighed, a deep contented breath of air.

  Their picnic was safe in a cooler at the back of the van and Max had, thankfully, held his tongue about their plans. If he'd told, all the other kids would have clamored to go along, too. Dropping them off at their homes, one by one, was accomplished without fanfare.

  With one child left to deliver, they made a stop to pick up Babe, nearly hysterical with joy at being allowed to go with them in the car.

  And then, “We're off!” Cass said, watching the last kid run up the driveway to his home. “Who's hungry?"

  "Me.” “Me.” Stacey and Max yelled. Babe wriggled on the seat between them.

  "And I know what's for dessert,” Max added in a hoarse whisper to Stacey.

  "What?” She dared him to say.

  "Can't tell. It's a secret."

  Cass shot a look sideways at Kate. “I'll bet it's chocolate."

  "I didn't tell!” Max protested. “I didn't!"

  "If your mom made it, it's got to be chocolate.” Cass's eyes teased Kate's. “And it's got to be good if it's anything like the Double Fudge Brownie with chocolate ice cream and chocolate sauce she served me the other night."

  That had been the night of the horn. A night still fresh in their memories, although neither Stacey nor Max knew anything about it.

  "Am I right?” he persisted.

  "Yes, it's chocolate. But that's all I'm telling.” Max said stubbornly, zipping his mouth closed with one hand.

  "Bet I can beat your butt at the alphabet game before we get to the lake,” Stacey said smugly.

  "Can't either!” Max retorted. “There's an A on that sign. A for Dairy Queen!"

  And they were off, loudly, on their favorite in-car game.

  Kate sat listening, still wondering about that night in the garage. When Cass left, he hadn't kissed her goodnight. After the sweet and tender kiss in her workroom—the one Leah had so effectively interrupted—she'd expected that he would.

  As if he read her mind, he took her hand and held it snug against his thigh. “Considering what happened upstairs, I didn't want to kiss you goodnight and then leave you alone."

  She managed a faint smile. “Got quite a reaction, didn't it?"

  "In fact, I don't want to leave you alone at all. Are you sure you're okay?"

  "We've been over this a half-dozen times. She won't hurt me. Besides, she'd already done her damage for one night."

  "My beeper goes where I go and you have the number. Don't hesitate to use it."

  She nodded. “I will. And thanks. For everything. Anyone else would have cut and run."

  "What? And missed a fudge brownie sundae? Not this man."

  She offered a fleeting smile, and then sobered. “Something else has happened. I need to tell you."

  It took all of five minutes to bring him up to date and another five for his frustration to simmer down that she hadn't called him.

  "I can't believe you ignored my cell phone number. I specifically gave it to you."

  "I know, but I wasn't in any real danger. Just more scary stuff. For whatever reason, Leah seems to get enjoyment out of this."

  "I want your promise. Your solemn promise that you'll call me if it happens again. Can I have it? Kate?"

  "There is absolutely no need—"

  "Kate!"

  "All right. If I feel threatened."

  "If you feel threatened, you'll what?"

  "I'll call. Really I will."

  Kate looked out the windshield, as the lake came into view, remembering, feeling again as bereft and alone as she had that night when Cass left. She
'd needed the physical contact, being close to another adult, to keep the bogey man away. Or, she thought, bogey woman. Leah. Her thoughts hadn't gone any further. She truly meant it when she told Bree she didn't want any romance in her life. Things were complicated enough as they were, but Cass seemed to be a good friend before anything else. And his steady, bulky frame had been extremely reassuring throughout that entire shaky evening.

  She would have braved the consequences of another kiss.

  * * * *

  The lake was nearly deserted when they arrived. The mothers who'd brought their little ones to swim had gathered blankets and buckets, called the children in from the water, and gone home to fix dinner. Teens, showing off for one another and working on tans, were drifting away, heading homeward for showers and to make plans for the evening ahead. The long stretch of sandy beach was theirs. Kate and Cass. Stacey and Max. Had a nice rhythm, she thought. Like it went together.

  They swam for a half hour, Kate trying not to feel conspicuous in her new bathing suit with the back cut down almost to the impossible. She belatedly realized the teal green one-piece suit had not been designed to swim in. She'd dropped Max off at the Junes and driven to town to shop hurriedly. She hadn't even taken time to try it on, just grabbed the suit off the rack, paid for it and left before she changed her mind. Never in her life had she worn anything except a utilitarian, black tank suit. To be truthful, she'd never really cared what she wore into the water. But for some reason she hadn't examined, it seemed to be important to look a little special this afternoon.

  What had appeared in the shop to be a good idea was something else at home. A narrow but solid front was held on the body by a complicated series of spaghetti straps and a low-cut, barely adequate bottom. Kate looked at herself in the mirror with something akin to horror. Twisting and turning in front of the glass, she started to strip it off—she'd have to exchange it—and then looked again. Actually, she sort of liked what she saw. She looked good. She looked—sexy. Not simply like Max's mother. She'd have to keep her front toward Cass, though. The back felt entirely too naked.

  She'd asked Max, when he poked his head around the door. He shrugged and said that it was okay.

  Kate shrugged, too. So much for the male opinion.

  Bree, when she called, laughed at Kate's modesty. “Why not flaunt it, if you've got it? Remember how daring we thought the first bikinis were? Zoe got a little hot pink number and we were all pea green with envy."

  "Zoe was always more daring than the rest of us."

  "And you were Old Mother Hubbard! Live a little Kate!"

  Kate forgot her concern, however, once they were in the water. Cavorting with the children, she had too much fun to think about her back. The children took turns diving down and swimming between her and Cass's legs. They played tag while Babe swam circles around them all. And then they had a jousting match with Max riding on Cass's shoulders and Stacey on hers. When they had all been dunked so many times they felt half drowned, they staggered up the beach to lie on towels and laugh.

  "You cheated. You held on to me."

  "You used your feet. That was cheating, too!"

  When they'd all gotten their breath back, Stacey rolled over on her stomach and said, “I got a new swimming suit just for today."

  Max was noticeably unimpressed.

  Cass merely glanced at her.

  "It's darling,” Kate said. “I love it. Did you pick it out?” The suit was a two-piece, yellow, with smiley faces sprinkled liberally all over.

  Max, always guaranteed to cut through the garbage, said matter-of-factly, “My mom got a new one, too. But she almost took it back to the store."

  "Max!” Kate warned. She felt her face flush hot. She sat up.

  "She said she felt naked."

  "Max! Hush!"

  "But that's what you sai—"

  "I said ‘hush,’ and I mean it!"

  Max hushed, looking bewildered.

  Cass rolled over and got to his feet. “Why don't we try out these fishing rods I brought along, buddy? It's about time for the bluegill to be hitting."

  "I can't think of a better idea,” Kate said, indignantly. “Take him away."

  As he passed her, Cass leaned over and whispered. “I do like the back, though. Raises a man's ... senses.” And he walked serenely along the sandy beach, Max and Stacey trailing along, trying to match his steps. Babe trotted importantly beside them, thrilled to be included, making brave dashes to the water's edge and then scooting back, tail between his legs, ahead of the small waves.

  Kate watched them go, wondering if Cass had meant the comment to be a double entendre, or if she just had a dirty mind. In either case, she smiled.

  Why this man? There had been others, at the office, through her painting, at church, who had given her those “Hey Baby” looks, telephone calls, innocent-seeming trips to the water cooler when she was there. She'd never given a one of them a second glance. So what was it about Cass that prompted that funny little catch in her breathing? What special chemistry was it that made him endearing with sweat staining his shirt and making the hair stick to his forehead in clumpy spikes? Whatever it was, it was a powerful draw.

  Eventually they ate sandwiches, ham and Swiss on rye, peanut butter and honey for the kids, deviled eggs and potato salad from the deli at The Bakery, and Chocolate Cherry Drop cookies. Babe looked on, imploring someone to take pity on him and toss him a bite.

  "Babe, lie down,” Kate commanded and he did, crushed by the insensitivity of humans.

  Licking his fingers of the last cookie crumb, Max looked up tentatively. “Is it okay if I tell Cass that these are Grandpa's favorite cookies?"

  "Yes, of course it's okay. You just shouldn't tell private things. You need to think before you say ... certain things."

  "Okay.” He turned to Cass. “My Grandma made these for my Grandpa every year for Christmas. She wrapped them in a pretty box and then tied a red ribbon around them and put the under the tree. And he always pretended to be surprised, but he really wasn't. He knew they'd be there, ‘cause she always made them. Sometimes the juice dribbled down his chin and he'd act like he didn't know they had cherries inside. And sometimes,” he shot a glance at Kate, “sometimes he'd sneak me an extra one when Mom didn't know it."

  Cass said, “Your grandma must have been a special lady. She must have loved your grandpa very much."

  Max nodded. “I guess."

  "In fact,” Cass leveled a long look at Kate, “it sounds as if Grandpa kind of liked Grandma, too."

  Again Max nodded, finished with the subject.

  Cass had brought kites and they ran the length of the beach, over and over again, watching the kites loop and dip overhead like drunken balloons. The four of them ran looking upward, their mouths open in the sheer joy of movement and color. The sound of their laughter echoed in the evening air.

  Kate thought she'd never been so happy. If only the moment could go on forever. If there weren't things to think about at home, like an orchid she couldn't seem to get just right on the silk, like Max's occasional earache, like Leah. Like the fact that Huey had threatened to try and take Max away from her. If there was some way she could freeze this day and make it last. But, of course, life didn't happen that way. No one knew that better than Kate.

  Reality returned. They built a fire and toasted marshmallows and talked until the children began to nod, and then went home.

  Stacey went to sleep in the van with her head on Max's shoulder, but he shrugged her off so that she leaned on the door instead. Max was tired himself.

  Cass's voice was soft. “He doesn't yet know the thrill of having a lady's head resting on him. Trusting him to take care of her."

  "Hopefully, I have a whole bunch of years before I need to worry about things like that."

  "Maybe,” he said, and pulled her hand over to hold on his thigh while he drove.

  His hand was warm and big. Comforting. Kate thought that maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all to ha
ve someone to think about, someone to take care of you. If they really did do the care-taking bit. Huey hadn't even thought of her and Max, or marriage, in those terms. She sighed. Huey hadn't been ready for commitment. Or fatherhood. Maybe he never would. Maybe she wasn't the person to draw it out of him. She'd never know. Hopefully, he was out of her life. Permanently.

  They dropped Stacey off with her mother and the lovely, safe, normal, feeling lasted all the way home.

  Kate had left the porch light on so they could see their way in. It suddenly seemed as if the fixture must have a thousand-watt bulb in it, as bright as it shone. Way too bright for a goodnight kiss. It was just as well, she thought. Kisses led to other things. Things she didn't want to deal with. She really wasn't ready for another relationship.

  But Cass had no such hang-ups. Max went on in the door and they could hear his footsteps stumbling up the stairs. With one swift movement, Cass's hand snaked in the door and flipped off the porch light, and he reached for Kate.

  "I don't know if this—"

  "You talk too much, sweet lady.” He caught her hand and linked their fingers together. “They still fit,” he said, his voice sober.

  "Yours is bigger,” she replied, remembering his teenage fists.

  "All the better to..."

  "Yes? All the better to what?"

  "Fill in the blanks,” he muttered lowering his head to hers.

  His lips were warm and soft as he cradled her head between his hands, turning her head to fit the slant of his. Of their own accord her arms went around him, cautiously at first and then with more pressure. A happy kind of excitement filled her until she felt as if her whole body was humming.

  She told herself it was the emotion of the moment. After the stress of trying to deal with Leah, the afternoon had been so relaxing, so nice, so ... everyday kind of good, that her guard was down. But she gave herself to his embrace fully, enjoying the feel of a strong and hard body caressing hers. Before she wanted him to, he drew away.

  For a long moment he simply stared at her.

  "I'm not sure I'm ready for this.” He swallowed hard, his hands still firm on her elbows.

  "I know.” She'd had exactly the same thought a moment ago. She was gripping the house key hard enough to leave the print in her palm.